


can we always be this close

by feuertatze



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Julie Molina, Bisexual Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Character Study, Coming Out, Dyslexic Reggie, F/M, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Minor Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Music as a coping mechanism, Pining, Touch-Starved, blatant disregard for that last scene, luke has two hands and he will hold hands with both of them, pan disaster luke, set during season 1, unsaid emily makes me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feuertatze/pseuds/feuertatze
Summary: "They had always been tactile, reaching out for reassuring touches, hugging each other, slapping each other whenever they said something stupid once again. When they became ghosts, the whole thing got turned up to eleven. Twenty-five years in a room alone hadn’t felt like much at the time, but the lack of touch caught up with them in a rush that felt like a tidal wave crashing. They ended up leaning against each other when they were hunched over Luke's notebook, pouring over chords - arms brushing against each other when walking somewhere - sharing the couch during downtime, legs tangled almost subconsciously."An exploration of closeness and touch.
Relationships: Alex & Luke Patterson & Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 274
Collections: Kelly's Picks





	can we always be this close

**Author's Note:**

> or: i project onto fictional characters for 7k
> 
> title from "lover" by taylor swift.

They had always been tactile, reaching out for reassuring touches, hugging each other, slapping each other whenever they said something stupid once again. Even hugging their (admittedly not that many) fans when they asked for an autograph after a show, even though Bobby liked to joke that they would be stabbed by a crazy girl someday and then die. 

Luke, in particular, had always found comfort in hugs from his mom, and when that wasn’t possible anymore, the guys filled the spot. 

Even though Reggie liked to pretend it wasn’t that bad, his parents had never been focused on his feelings enough with all their fighting that he would have gotten physical affection (or any kind of direct affection, really), so when Luke and Alex offered it freely, he usually jumped at the opportunity. 

And Alex, well, Alex just was an emotional person and he liked to show his love.

When they became ghosts, the whole thing got turned up to eleven. Twenty-five years in a room alone hadn’t felt like much at the time (time slipping away was kind of the thing with the whole being dead, Luke supposed), but the lack of sensual experiences caught up with them in a rush that felt like a tidal wave crashing. When they had been okay with separation at first, after a day or so Luke missed Alex and Reggie next to him when they explored the city (Los Angeles was so different now, it was hard to think of it as _theirs_ anymore at first), after a week, something under his skin itched when they were on the other side of the room. He wasn’t the only one who felt this, because they all found themselves seeking physical contact more and more. They ended up leaning against each other when they were hunched over his notebook, pouring over chords - arms brushing against each other when walking somewhere - sharing the couch during downtime, legs tangled almost subconsciously. Alex had it a little less bad than Luke and Reggie, probably thanks to Willie, Luke guessed. He and Reggie gravitated even more towards each other as a result, sharing the couch at night, tightly pressed against each other at the kitchen counter when they watched Carlos do his ghost hunter research after school.

One day, the day after their performance in the club, Luke woke up to a weight on top of his torso and a loud bang. 

Raising his head from where it was buried between the pillows on the couch, he saw two things: Reggie, sprawled on top of him, still sleeping peacefully, and Julie, a cardboard box full of cables and random stuff that looked very 21st century at her feet, staring at him. 

“Oh my god, sorry, did I wake you?”, Julie said, very loudly and pitchy in Luke’s opinion. He groaned a little and shook his head.   
“How late is it anyway?”, he asked and shook Reggie’s shoulders. As pleasant as affection was, this boy was way heavier than he looked, especially as dead weight. 

“10 am, the entire house has been up for hours. By the way,”, Julie raised her eyebrows at him and Reggie, who had decided it was time for him to finally wake up as well, “why are you sleeping like _that_?” 

Reggie grinned at her, of course quicker to function after waking up than Luke, but still not bothering to actually _move_. 

“It’s comfy! Luke’s a great pillow and sharing the blanket is easier that way too!” 

“Thanks, man.” Luke pushed at Reggie until he fell off the couch. Ignoring his indignant scream, he got up and went over to Julie with her box. 

Crouching down, he gathered the things that had fallen out of the box before Julie could help him, then handed her the box.   
“What’s all this stuff anyway?”, he asked. 

“I found an old projector and thought we could do a movie night.”

“Not the new Star Wars movies!”, yelled Reggie from across the room where he was currently trying to fold the blanket into something semi-resembling a neat square. 

Julie grinned at Luke and called back over to Reggie: “You’d be surprised at the CGI in the new ones!” 

She reached into the box, lifted a stack of DVDs out of it, and handed it to Luke. At the last second, he remembered that he had to concentrate to be able to hold them and not let them fall right through his hands. 

The longer he hadn’t had close contact with Reggie or Alex, the harder it always seemed to be to remember that he wasn’t solid, wasn’t actually _real_ anymore. That he had to work to function like normal when he wasn’t playing music. 

“Actually, I’d been thinking of Studio Ghibli, it’s a shame you haven’t had a chance to see Spirited Away yet!”, said Julie brightly and marched across the room and set her box down on the table.   
“Yeah, this corner should work if we move this…”, she mumbled almost to herself, while Reggie mouthed “What’s Studio Ghibli?” to Luke. Luke had zero idea since he had never been a big movie person - persuading him to watch Star Wars had taken days, _because they could have used the time to practise, Alex._ Music just was and had always been a priority. He shrugged and went to get his guitar. 

He technically wasn’t _allowed_ to play this early on weekends, but the way the sunlight framed Julie’s hair and bare shoulders (How many off-the-shoulder tops did she own anyway?) seemed to weirdly heighten his itch to play. 

“Hey Julie”, he sheepishly tried and ducked down a little when she shot him a pointed look at the sight of his electric guitar in his hands, “would acoustic be allowed?” 

If he remembered correctly, his old acoustic guitar, the very first one he had bought himself at 14, should still be in the loft above and if he was lucky, he would only need to replace the strings and retune it.

Or, of course, he reminded himself, it could be completely unplayable after more than 25 years of not being used. Or just not even there anymore, actually, someone could’ve easily taken it. He felt a sting at the thought of losing it, the first thing that had made his dreams of making music feel tangible.

After Julie gave him tentative permission to potentially use an acoustic guitar while her dad and brother were in the house, she went to get some of her textbooks since she liked to work on her school work in the studio. Luke did not mind her company while he wrote music, in fact, he loved how he could call a break, sing a line he was working on and get her feedback. They worked in a way he had never experienced before, not even with the boys. 

Reggie meanwhile announced he would “spend some quality time with good-old Ray” and poofed out, presumably to the living room in the house.

“Where’s Alex anyway?”, asked Julie after a while. 

Luke looked up from where he was laying on the carpet, pen cap between his teeth, notebook open before him. “I don’t know, probably somewhere with Willie?” 

“Aren’t you worried? I mean, he wasn’t here when I woke you up earlier!”

“We’re already dead, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Him getting lost?” Luke grinned at her. “This is our city, Julie, we’ll always find our way back.” 

This was true, even if the city looked very different than it did when they were still alive. Sometimes, it felt like Los Angeles was as much a part of him as his guitar was a part of his soul when they were playing, as his best friends were a part of him, always.

The itch under Luke’s skin always seemed to be there now when they were separated, but Julie didn’t need to know that. 

She also didn’t need to know how badly Luke wanted to hug her sometimes when she looked sad, how badly he wanted to press his shoulder against hers when they were sitting on the floor, working on a song together, wanted to brush back a curl that had come loose from her braid out of her face. 

“Everything okay?” 

Julie’s voice brought him back to the present. She was looking a little irritated and Luke was surprised to find his arm halfway stretched out in her direction, hanging in the air as if frozen. Immediately, he dropped it and cleared his throat.   
“Uh, yes, of course. Just- nevermind.” 

Julie shrugged and went back to her algebra homework. 

Luke wanted a little bit to hit himself with his notebook. Why had he done this? Julie was so off-limits she wasn’t even on the scale anymore. He wouldn’t have been able to touch her anyway, even if his subconscious brain had had other ideas. 

Wanting to touch Julie became a constant thought in his head after that. It was _maybe a thing_ , _okay?_

The movie night - Spirited Away had made all of them cry, even Julie who admitted to having seen it at least a dozen times - had ended with the three of them comfortably close and leaning on each others' shoulders. Reggie even laid his head into Luke’s lap for a while. Only Julie sat on the other end of the couch, cheeks still flushed from all the tears, looking a little lost in comparison. Luke felt a painful twitch. He wanted to include her so badly, but they would be like air to her if she tried to touch them. Laughing at Alex and Reggie fighting over the next movie (Luke voted for some Disney movie that turned out to have killer animation because he had _taste_ ) made Julie feel less distant, but it still would have been nice to have been able to include her in their quasi-group hug.

Their regular nightly meetings in the kitchen (they both seemed to have a habit of late-night snacks - even if Luke couldn’t actually eat them, old habits died ( _hah_ ) hard) turned into constantly resisting the annoyingly persistent urge to hug Julie. She usually came down for a snack when she was worrying over something and couldn’t sleep and Luke sometimes just wordlessly hovered around the kitchen, silently keeping her company. It seemed to help.

It still felt strange when Julie walked through them or tried to touch them, even though she pretty much stopped doing it once Alex mentioned how weirdly tingly it felt. Luke had been ready to throw hands with Alex at that moment, but sometimes he totally one hundred percent accidentally brushed through where her arm would be or passed through her when they were practising. He _knew_ it was creepy, but the sensation of it, a weird illusion of warmth and the faint idea of solidness kept him at it. 

After a while, Luke noticed how much he still craved touch even when he found himself sitting next to Alex who was tapping a complicated rhythm Luke did not understand yet on his knee, their shoulders and arms touching. Even when Reggie, reading a book about something Luke wouldn’t really understand anyway that he had found left behind in the loft, was sitting on the carpet and leaning against the couch, a pleasant warmth radiating from where he was casually touching Luke’s legs, Luke still found himself wishing for a hug, for a friendly knocking of shoulders, for someone to wrap themselves around him and keep him safe. 

  
Then, the doors of the garage opened with an enthusiastic swing, disturbing their peaceful silence. Luke looked over to the doors, his slightly pathetic thoughts forgotten for now.   
Julie entered, Flynn at her side, talking animatedly about something Luke didn’t even try to keep up with. Their conversations didn’t allow for people other than them to truly understand - just like with him and the boys where silent glances carried as much meaning as a whole sentence, Luke supposed, but still felt the urge to be a part of their conversation, just cracking a casual joke that would make Julie laugh like Flynn did so easily.

“Who’s up for some practising?”

He jumped up from the couch, shoving everything far away. Music would help with his confusing thoughts as of late and they had to practise anyway if they wanted to really show how awesome the band was at their next gig. Reggie and Alex followed his prompt framed as a question readily, always there to do the thing their shared love of had brought them together in the first place. Luke snatched up his notebook from where it sat on top of the grand piano while Julie, afternoon sun illuminating her face in warm light, plugged in the necessary cables with Reggie, and Alex retrieved his drum sticks from _somewhere_ where they definitely shouldn’t have been. 

  
  


It felt like someone gripping your heart, never relenting, and twisting each time you thought you had become used to the hurt to draw fresh pain from you, thorns stinging in new angles, Luke decided. His relationship with his parents had been, well, horrible when he was still alive, but at least then the regret, the sadness had never won over the immense disappointment and resentment. 

This was different now. 

Watching his parents, he wished for nothing more than for his mom to hug him like she had done when he was little, for his dad to give him a pat on the shoulder. Guiding his hands on the baseball bat like he had done when he had taught him how to play in elementary school, his mom ruffling his hair like she had done until he grew taller than her. 

  
He liked to think he was happy, generally. To be still here, to still be able to make music. He was incredibly happy to have met Julie, to have experienced the way Alex had started to smile when they had passed the first street with rainbow flags casually hanging from balconies, to have seen Reggie nearly faint in joy when Julie had told him how most books were available as audiobooks now, his dyslexia no longer preventing him from getting through books with uncomfortable fonts in record speed anymore.

But he also sometimes just couldn’t help sinking into the stark hollowness inside him, the black nothing that tugged at his mood until he inevitably turned up on his parents’ front lawn again, just to watch them eat dinner, watch tv, have cake on his birthday. 

Crying had never been something to be ashamed of in their friend group, all of them perpetually stressed and anxious (even Bobby, struggling with his religious upbringing, though _that_ certainly seemed to have resolved itself and turned into a load of pseudo-esoteric yoga and meditation), but it still felt cathartic to cry in this private space, over his lost parents, over their loss. 

He liked to sit as close to his parents as possible without having to face the reality that he wasn’t actually able to touch them when he visited, just to feel close. 

But when he poofed back to the studio afterwards, he sought out touch even more than usual, less unconsciously. 

Reggie grinned at him then, when he wouldn’t remove his legs from where they lay atop his when he would’ve done so every other day. 

“Look who’s too lazy to move”, he teased with a playful smile, stretching and reaching over for Julie’s old MP3 player she had given him to listen to books.

“You okay, buddy?”, Alex asked carefully and pleasantly nonchalantly, flopping onto the couch right next to him, a book with two girls who seemed thoroughly in love with each other on the overwhelmingly orange cover open in his hand. He leaned in, now close enough to lean amicably against Luke’s shoulder, and turned the page. 

Luke smiled at their obvious contentment, nervous energy forgotten for once, and reached for his acoustic guitar. If he was quiet enough, no one would hear them from the house - and even if they did, Julie wasn’t yet home and Carlos could use a little encouragement in his ghost hunt venture anyway. Luke certainly would have _killed_ for the opportunity to go ghost hunting when he had been his age, so he didn’t see the harm in making it just a little more fun for Carlos.

They spent the rest of the afternoon that way and even when Julie came back from Flynn’s and they practised, Luke kept close to Reggie, bright warmth slowly refilling the aching hollowness in his heart. Julie shot him blinding, overjoyed smiles during their practice, whenever they got that one duet line _just right_ , making his knees unexplainably feel weak each time.

“We’re going to _rock_ the next gig, guys!”, he yelled after Reggie had smashed that last riff, throwing his arm around him, and Julie whooped loudly while Alex did a totally-over-the-top but immensely necessary drum roll to underscore his agreement. 

Still laughing, they all collapsed on the couch again, where it didn’t even really matter, _really,_ Luke told himself firmly when Julie leaned against the cushions instead of on Alex, who technically was in the way, because they were still close, and Reggie had leaned his head on Luke’s shoulder which made him feel giddy and warm for entirely different reasons than Julie’s ankle being halfway through his own.

  
  


They did rock their next gig, big time. But Luke could only half focus on the music, on how the crowd was cheering, how people could see them doing the thing they loved the most - because he kept seeing Julie, Julie singing, Julie dancing, Julie smiling at him, Julie, Julie, Julie. The way her ponytail moved in sync with the rhythm, the way she soaked up the cheers, the way she seemed to actually spark with joy when she was singing, the way she locked eyes with him and made him feel like she was singing to _him._

And in the middle of all that, Alex absolutely shining on the drums and Reggie, Reggie _working_ with him like they had always done, strangely intimate on a stage, every bit of the connection they shared concrete between them. 

He had known, probably, how he felt. 

Julie was very pretty, of course, he had noticed that on the first day. Cute, definitely, with these eyes and the oversized clothes she liked to wear. But she was kind as well, even when she wouldn’t have needed to be - letting them stay in the garage, indulging them by offering secrets, always looking out for whenever they didn’t feel as great. Plus, she shared his love of music, of writing lyrics, of coming up with melodies that stuck in your head, in a way that few people did. 

Luke had had no chance of not falling for her if he was honest. 

It wasn’t going to work out anyway. Hell, he was a _ghost_. Even if she could see them, even make them visible. Zero chance. 

That realisation hurt, Luke found out, curled up on the couch later that night. But it didn’t change anything, really. Hopefully. He just had to make sure Julie _never_ got an unsupervised hold of his notebook again, because if he knew one thing about himself, it was the fact that he wrote songs to cope with any overwhelming emotions. And this was an overwhelming emotion if he had ever seen one.

After that, Julie’s presence became nearly impossible to ignore. It was _hard_ to focus on anything when she was in close proximity because Luke felt a constant yearning to reach out, to take her hand, to rest his head on her shoulder, to finally, finally touch her. Each time she accidentally touched only thin air where he should’ve been, when she was leaning over to do something, was unconsciously reaching out to him before reality kicked it, it simply happening during practice - it served as an unpleasant reminder of how far away he was from ever being able to connect with her in that way. 

  
  


The wave kept on crashing, somehow. 

Reggie taking his hand when they were falling asleep was a shock the first time, Luke’s brain short-circuiting for a moment. A hell of a lot of weird things had happened in the last weeks, but this _had_ to be one of the weirdest - in a good way though (probably). Luke was suddenly very grateful the garage was almost pitch-black, illuminated only by the faint shine of the street light outside, because Alex would’ve totally never let the sudden heat in his cheeks go if he’d been able to see it. The way Reggie’s breath slowed when Luke didn’t let go immediately, spread the warmth into his chest where it eased a pulling sensation he hadn’t even been aware of until now, too blended in with the unspecific general longing he felt all the time. He moved closer to Reggie behind him on the couch, drawing their linked hands nearer to his chest and closed his eyes. 

That night was one of the few in which neither of them startled awake with the residual terror of a nightmare, hoarse scream echoing in the quietness of the garage, then silently sobbing into each other’s shoulders because simply being there where no one else would had always worked out in the end. Holding Reggie's hand became regular after that, first in order to ground them, to pull them away from the horror, then simply because it felt just nice to hold someone and to feel the warmth of their skin.

Alex kept spending time away from the rest of them on what were definitely dates with Willie, even if he kept denying it, betrayed by his adorably wide grin when he talked about his time with Willie. 

It felt a little weird and not super great to be separated from one of his best friends this often, especially after this much time with only the three of them there (even if it hadn’t registered as 25 years), but if Alex was happy, Luke for sure wasn’t going to call an end to it. Especially not if it risked Alex being mad at him - or even worse, being _sad_. 

And Alex seemed happy when he got back in the evenings, smiling, cheeks still flushed from the rush of poofing out and in over longer distances - and possibly also from just being with Willie, even if Alex vehemently denied this with a “No, it is _not_ , the whole teleportation thing just keeps being _weird as hell!_ ” every time Luke, Reggie or Julie started teasing him gently about it.

Even with the connection between the three of them being more than just being near each other, going deeper, Luke still felt the now familiar itch for touch the whole day whenever Alex wasn’t there. He ignored it, but it only amplified his sense of loss, the hollowness inside him, the desire for comfort and loving touch.

His parents had always hugged him when he needed it; his mom’s arms shielding him from whatever had scared or hurt him on any particular day when he was little, and when he got older, they offered an escape in a world of too many sensations and too intense emotions, up until he started playing and writing his own music and their relationship started falling apart and music became his escape and coping mechanism instead. Still, hugs from his mom had always remained special and comforting like few things.

It hurt, a deep and stinging tearing right under his heart, whenever he remembered how he would never be able to get a hug from his mom ever again, no matter how much he wanted to just feel her warm arms around him, wrapping him in her familiar smell, comforting, making him feel safe and loved and like nothing in the entire world could ever hurt him again.

  
  


It had started to become an annoyingly persistent urge now, preventing him from focusing on other things, the ache to touch Julie. Things that were forbidden or just plain impossible had always intrigued him, Luke thought, like playing The Orpheum, an almost impossible gig to secure for a band as new as Sunset Curve (Tell Your Friends), quitting high school in the middle of senior year to do music when he ran away, the food he couldn't eat anymore, Julie’s dream box. 

But it went beyond that, because Julie was amazing, insanely talented - and very very pretty - because she connected with him like no one else did, not even Alex or Reggie, knowing what it was like to have to live with loss and regret and turning to writing music as a way to deal with it all. 

But it didn't seem like Julie felt this way about him. 

She kept looking at the blonde guy from her school, Nick Something Something, when Luke talked to her, something like jealousy feeling bitter in his throat. When she was smiling at her phone and he happened to ask her why, she usually answered that Nick had just sent her a funny text. And when she talked about dance class with Flynn when they were hanging out in the studio while Luke and the others jammed a little, Flynn kept teasing her about Nick being her partner and how good their chemistry _apparently_ was. 

So yeah. Not the greatest chances, even after considering how _Luke was a literal ghost_. 

Admitting it was not easy, even with them being as close as they were. Who even did that, fall for someone who was so out of reach, so close but yet so incredibly far away?

Plus, there was still the way Reggie smiled at him, the way Reggie’s arm felt around his shoulders all the time, and how fuzzy his mind got whenever Reggie brushed his hair back during performances in his very distracting way. 

Luke found himself grasping for Julie’s attention more and more anyway. Reggie gave his freely and Luke latched onto it, joking with him, taking up the offers for jam sessions, writing with him when Julie was in school. 

But still, he hated poofing to Julie’s high school less than someone who hated most aspects of high school when he had been there should have - and that said a lot about how strongly he craved Julie’s presence and attention, Luke thought.

“What do you think? Still thinking _Great?_ Or let Reggie perform his country songs?”, he asked Julie sheepishly between classes in the hallway even though she had made it pretty clear he wasn’t supposed to talk to her when there were people around at school. Julie did laugh despite glaring at him at the same time.   
“Let me just…” She pulled out her phone and pretended to take a call.   
“You can’t keep doing this, someone will notice.” 

Luke shrugged, deciding to tease her a little more. “So what? They know you have a ghost band already.”

“ _Hologram_ band! And I still have to go here every day which will be really awkward _if they think I talk to thin air!”_ , Julie shot back. Luke defensively held up his hands in the universal pose of surrender. 

The bell rang and the sound of lockers being slammed shut started around them, while students hurried to get to their classes. 

“I gotta go, talk to you later?”, Julie smiled at him and closed her locker as well. Then she lowered her phone, picked up her backpack and left for her next class. 

Luke tried to shut down the budding sensation of loneliness by focusing on her bright smile on him, but that had never really worked. Maybe one of the boys was at the studio and they could write some new music together while they waited for Julie to come home and they could practise for their next gig. That usually distracted him even on his darkest days especially when Alex or Reggie got super excited about a new bassline or rhythm. 

They were the only people in the world where everything around just kind of faded when they played a new song together for the first time or got that one bridge finally right. When they were together, played together, everything made sense, simply _fit_ in a way Luke had never experienced with anyone else before - aside from Julie now, of course. 

When the two of them shared the mic, when they were songwriting together, when they were just spending time, talking about everything and nothing, he felt less alone, less lacking direction than usual, the sensation of floating somewhere in space fading, his feet touching solid ground for a little while.

Their next performance hurt, in all the bad and in all the good ways. Lights blinding him, cheers, loud drum beats next to him, Carrie’s frown standing out amongst excited faces, Ray applauding them and almost knocking over his expensive camera in the process, and Julie focused on the crowd, Julie smiling up at Alex with all her blinding happiness, Julie duetting with Reggie, Julie stepping away from him. Rejection always stung, no matter how unintentional (it did feel a little intentional though, there), especially from her, but he was nothing if stubborn. 

It felt like a metaphorical guitar string snapping, like Alex’s “a little fire makes things better on stage”, Reggie’s laugh echoing in his mind, Julie breaking out into the chorus while they joined in, the equivalent to the key change in the bridge, and Luke found himself stepping forward, trying to tell Julie how much he needed her, how her smile, her kind words and her music made him stop thinking about what he lost and instead see how much he had gained, how her eyes drew him in. 

And finally, _finally_ , she looked back.

A start, just maybe, Luke thought later that night, Reggie’s breath warm on his shoulder. Julie Molina and everything around her had become such an important part of his life so quickly, he almost couldn’t believe how little time had actually passed since they first appeared back in what used to be their old studio and was Julie’s garage now. 

_What else had changed? What_ hadn’t _changed?_ Luke turned his face into Reggie’s chest, trying to control his suddenly overflowing grief for everything he could’ve done, seen, been, taking measured breaths, while Reggie tightened his grip on him without saying a word. _This_ hadn’t changed. _They_ hadn’t changed, they were still there for each other when no one else was, when no one else could understand how fucked up it felt to be (or at least feel like) the reason for your family falling apart, when they needed comfort and safety while the world around them crumbled.

  
  


The next day, while they were all hanging out in Julie’s room for a change, Alex pointed to the brightly colored flag on the inside of Julie’s open closet door. 

"Hey Julie, does that one have a meaning?"

Luke might have turned his head to look at her for the answer - if he hadn’t already been staring at her curly hair for a good ten minutes, trying to find the appropriate adjective for the song he was mentally writing which she absolutely would tease him for mercilessly if she knew. 

And with the number of times he had scrambled to pull his notebook away when she was about to turn a page to a very embarrassing duet idea, Reggie and Alex probably knew what he was mainly writing about lately. 

Julie hesitated for a moment, then seemed to brace herself and said: “It’s the bisexual pride flag.” 

“Oh, said Alex breathlessly. “ _Oh”_ , he repeated. 

“Yeah, I’m bi, actually, I like both boys and girls”, Julie added when no one said anything else. _Oh_ , it echoed in Luke’s head. 

A sniff made him turn his head to Alex who was wiping across his face, smiling faintly at Julie. 

Julie made a concerned face, clearly at a loss on what to do with this. 

“I don’t think I told you before, but I’m gay”, Alex said then, choked, but with shining eyes. 

Luke’s throat felt pretty choked up with emotion as well, and he tried to keep his impending tears from falling. This wasn’t about him, not directly at least. 

Julie didn’t hesitate this time and almost leapt across the bed from where she was perched to Alex who was sitting in her bean bag, and hugged him - or would have hugged him if they hadn’t been ghosts. She ended up awkwardly hugging the bean bag, Alex laughing from above her, tear streaks already starting to dry on his cheeks. Alex deserved this, deserved acceptance and unconditional love, Luke thought, feeling a fierce desire to protect him at all costs deep in his stomach.

Then, he felt a hand closing around his own, firm and warm. Reggie nudged his shoulder with his own and leaned his head on his shoulder, while Luke finally worked out the verse he had been struggling with the entire afternoon, alternating between watching Julie wildly gesturing to Alex, telling him about how hilarious her coming out to her dad had been, and looking down at Reggie slowly reading yet another book, soft dark brown hair brushing against his neck and shoulder.

  
  


Reggie, Alex and even Julie probably knew where he disappeared to on those days when he particularly grieved for his old life, his missed chance to make up with his parents, the things he never got to experience the real way, he realised after a few weeks. 

His old home was another one of those inevitable pulls he felt now. 

It had taken him weeks to accept the fact he couldn’t speak to his parents anymore, actually wanting to for the first time in a long time. He had tried to hug his mom, only touching air instead of her soft cardigan. 

He talked to them. At first, it was like you talked to a grave, whispered, aware of the fact the only things in front of you were a patch of grass, a headstone and the decomposing remnants of what had once been a loved person but wasn’t anymore. Then, on the days when he felt more alone than usual, scared, left alone in the infinite, cold, unrelenting progression of time he had screamed at them, tears blurring his vision, until his voice went hoarse and eventually gave out, desperate for them to just see him, to just hear him, for _anything_. 

But whatever he did, they went on with their days without ever noticing him, a deep sadness in their eyes that Luke couldn’t unsee, old and grown used to by now, like the guitar string scars on his own fingertips.

Still, it took Julie standing on his parents’ porch when he appeared there for him to really grasp it all like it took her for a lot of things lately: His best friends had let him grieve quietly, had let him find his own coping mechanisms, had gladly made space in their routines for him hanging onto them, he realized. And Julie had understood, knew what it was like to lose family, to lose a parent. 

This was the closest to closure he was going to get for a while and still. Still, all he wanted in this moment was to hug Julie, to feel her warmth around him, to hold her hand, to comfort both of them.

And Julie seemed to want this too. She impulsively tried to take his hand, both of them ripped out of the moment when her hand went right through his. The only thing left was the faint sensation of tingling, rippling on the smooth surface of a lake with each breath of air. Luke turned away from her, disappointment unfurling hot in his stomach. He should’ve known better, really. There was nothing to be gained from trying again and again, only to be let down each time. He felt cold, colder than usual. When he looked over to Julie, her face displayed the same bitter frustration he felt, the air between thick with unspoken emotions. 

He was equally disappointed and grateful when she changed the topic after that, clearly trying to break the tension.

  
  


Thinking about how they were probably going to die again, for real this time, was not high on Luke’s list of preferred past-times. He deeply regretted the decision to go to the Hollywood Ghost Club every time he felt like someone was stabbing him or like he had eaten _another_ of those cursed hotdogs. 

It wasn’t even so much the actual pain, it was the memory of Reggie clinging to his hand so tightly, whispering “But I don’t want to die” almost too quiet to be heard over the sirens of the ambulance. The memory of Alex curled up in as much a fetal position as the narrow gurney allowed, of the horrific moment when his eyes had gone blank, an awful cramp wrecking through Luke’s body at the same time, Reggie’s hand crushing his, then going slack. The godawful sense of absolute loneliness, then immeasurable pain. 

And then the dark room, frantically searching for his best friends, lost and empty.

So yeah, Luke did _not_ feel like going through the flashback again every time he got jolted. He coped, in the way he always did, by writing music about it. 

The wave that had been building for the last weeks broke that night, after their performance at the Orpheum. ( _The Orpheum_! If it had been under any other circumstances, all of them wouldn’t have shut up about it for probably months.) Clinging to each other, desperately trying to hold onto the other boys, Luke was terrified of being alone, of dying alone, of having to see them fading away a second time, knowing this time would be the final goodbye. 

Then there were steps from someone walking outside the garage door. Luke heard a muffled “ _shit_ ” from Alex, hoping it wasn’t Julie. They had talked about this, about sparing her the additional pain and grief if their plan didn’t work as planned - which it hadn’t. Julie didn’t need to know this, they all agreed, because she deserved peace and happiness. Even if they would have to go without her easy smile and kind words nearby.

Julie opened the door, clearly thinking they had passed on. That was until Reggie gave them away, in a move so _typical_ of him Luke couldn’t even be mad. Thinking while they were weak and in pain was hard, okay?

This time it was him who lost control, the desire to hug Julie, to comfort both her and himself too strong to hold back anymore. Or maybe it was Julie, his mind too hazy with pain to really register what happened first. However it happened, suddenly he felt warmth around him, a pair of solid arms tightly enveloping him in a hug. Instinctively, he held on, only letting go when his mind cleared up enough for him to be confused about what was happening. 

_Had he just… Did they just…_

Then the pain decreased, all at once, the entire scene passing like in a dream. Every cell of his body lighting up, not burning him with longing like before but with joy, with euphoria.

At last, they found themselves all hugging, arms, shoulders, chests, foreheads touching, elation. Julie smiled up at Luke, then Reggie, then Alex, all of them returning her smile. It didn’t matter what had changed, why things had changed, at least for now. The wave had reached the shore, leaving white foam behind on the shore, an acoustic guitar playing Wonderwall from somewhere on the beach. Luke screwed his eyes shut for a moment, tearing up once again. Reggie laughed when he noticed, but Luke did notice how his lips trembled faintly, just like they always did when he was about to cry too. Alex groaned loudly when he noticed, loudly proclaiming again how he definitely was _not_ the emotional one of them, case in point, Julie laughing loudly, then tightening her grip on them. 

This time they weren’t sad tears for once, but instead relief, happiness, joy. Finally being able to touch Julie, not dying again, not being alone again.

  
  


They were still tactile now, leaning towards reassuring touches, instinctively reaching for each other’s hands when something startled them, Alex ruffling Luke’s hair affectionately whenever he wanted to annoy him, hugging whoever was closest at night when they felt alone in the dark of the studio. It was how they expressed affection, right next to words of affirmation and, of course, music.

The thing that changed was that their touches weren’t helpless, desperate, frantic anymore, trying to hold onto each other in the new scary world they had been thrust into. They were more gentle now, secure, more casual, more like _before_. And they included Julie now, naturally, almost by itself. Reggie and Julie bumped into each other during practice, jumping up and down, Alex guided her hands when he taught her a rhythm on the drums sometimes, Luke casually brushed shoulders with her when they were crouched over his notebook, songwriting.

And sometimes they simply ended up like this, soft afternoon light illuminating the porch. Alex was finishing his book (he had cried a few times over it and been officially declared “the emotional one” on this set of evidence again), while Luke sat next to Reggie who was leaning against his side with his headphones in, their hands laced together. Julie was on his other side, tapping with a pen against her lips while trying to decide what word would fit best into the line she was writing, open notebook laying on her knees, her other hand casually tangled with Luke’s. 

Luke smiled down at her when she furled her eyebrows in concentration because she looked pretty adorable there in his opinion. The light reflected on her glasses when she looked up and frowned a little at him. Then she pointed with her pen to a line on the page. 

“What do you think of this one? _Love me as I am, I’ll hold your music here in …_ something.” 

Luke nodded enthusiastically. Her own lyrics rarely failed to hit him right in his heart, but he loved how they worked together as songwriters, how they made each other better.

He thought about it for a second, and then lifted their entangled hands a little, feeling his heart still fluttering a little like a string on his guitar whenever he plucked it too strongly whenever they casually acknowledged what was happening between them. 

“What about _I’ll hold your music here inside my hands_?” 

**Author's Note:**

> This is brought to you by intense feelings about Unsaid Emily as well as some great jatp fics about touch here on ao3: “Is it cool that I said all that?” by smol_fangirl and “touch-starved” by DarknessChill.
> 
> Big thanks to Iris for retweeting those gifs that made me watch jatp and for hyping me up while I was writing this.  
> As usual thanks to AWiP, you keep me writing and make me feel less alien, etc. Special thanks for enduring my spam of snippets of this.


End file.
